Broken: Ryou Bakura's Story
by WilliamKanaKun
Summary: Have you ever wondered what sadness lies behind those beautiful chocolate coloured eyes? Here's a look into Ryou's hurt, angst, confusion and sadness.
1. Chapter 1

I feel like I am in a cage; trapped within my own existence.

Take me to the hospital and have this drained from my body and mind.

I wonder how I ever got this far, holding onto the fragments of dreams.

I want these tears to dry…these wounds to heal.

I want to be free of this curse, but I'm afraid.

Afraid that if I change, all that I know will fall apart.

I guess I've defined myself by this illness, yet I have little knowledge as to who I am.

I don't want this struggle to be mine.

I don't want this fear, loathing and pain to belong to me any longer.

I'm tired of hiding myself and what I believe in.

I'm tired of pretending to be someone else; I want to be myself, whoever the fuck that is.

I know that I can't be happy if I'm hiding away.

May the shield crack, crumble and fall away.

Cleanse me of my past life.

No longer will I be the one with the broken heart.

Falling away from all my old and incorrect ways.

Let Ra's flames burn away the bitterness, greed and hate;

allow the flames to cleanse me.

Seamless acts of beauty always around me.

Always able to see, but never able to roach or become.

Fading fast, like a distant memory of the past.

This body that I am in disgusts and repulses me.

Thing things I truly favour are my scars.

Each have distinct memories, feelings and reasons.

Lines and designs decorating my flesh, it hardly seams human.

I don't want to be a part of the confusion of man.

I want the darkness to fade into a distant memory.

This thing we call life will chew you up and spit you out.

I cannot deny the confusion and sadness that weighs down my heart.

I don't want to be empty, hurt and alone when I die.

The one thing that I have is my intellect-and I'm not going to let anyone take that away from me.

I won't let them get me;

They always want to hurt me, break me down, take the things that belong to me.

I want to know that my dreams are within reach, that I'm not just stupid.

I want to be able to hold my success in my hands.


	2. Chapter 2

His smile used to light up a room,

but it's become jaded.

His touch, once so soft,

has become like sandpaper rubbing up against my skin.

Moving through the crowd has become more difficult then ever.

Afraid of being seen, afraid of being touched.

The sun burns my pale skin, just like the shame does.

Laying on the roof, watching the world go by.

The stars are like my dreams, so far away and

I don't have what I need to reach them.

I'm tired of smiling and burring the pain,

tired of choking on misery.

Pacing my room hour after hour,

always moving, but never getting anywhere.

Looking for a way to make my way in the world.

Laying on the roof, watching the world go by.

The stars are like my dreams, so far away and

I don't have what I need to reach them.

I'm tired of smiling and burring the pain,

tired of choking on misery.

Pacing my room hour after hour,

always moving, but never getting anywhere.

Looking for a way to make my way in the world.

Hidden behind words,

deep lines of sorrow.

There must be an escape.

It's not my ideals, it's not my style.

I question my own beliefs, humanity and self.

Second guessing fills up a lot of my time.

Do you like who you are?

You love me…don't you lie.

It's just easier to walk away.

Just let the days go by.

I tempt myself with cyanide treats and

stressful nights.

What could be easier than that?

Letting yourself fall into the black and

forgetting how to feel.

I don't want a P.S. I love you,

I want you to mean it and say it to my face.

Hold me in your arms and give it to me straight.

Sometimes my heart overflows.

Kiss me and fill me with life.

Help me to breathe.

Help me to touch, see and feel.

And don't let me forget.

I often wonder if they can see the sadness that is

reflected in my eyes.

I often wonder if they are able to feel the hurt that

radiates from my body.

I often wonder if they can hear the screams that are

streaming out of me.

I don't want to believe that this is all pointless, that everything I've

done and will do will be in vain.

I pretend like nothing matters and that I'm completely indifferent,

when inside it's a constant struggle to find a path through the

internal chaos.

I pretend that I'm fine and I paste a smile on my face, hiding

everything out of shame and fear.

*Author's Note: Coming next will be An Interview With Marik Ishtar and Outrageous Ipods 2


	3. Chapter 3

Where is the way out?

What do I have to do in order to find the golden door?

We live in a time of creed and corruption,

lies and shame,

but it shouldn't mean those are the terms of living.

We used to define ourselves with pride.

Time is running out-

better decided quickly, lovely.

What will I say with my last breath?

All kinds of things run through my head,

competing with one another.

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother when I know

that in the wend we all will fail.

it all seems like a complete waste.

All our achievements, everything is forgotten in time.

The pain is sometimes too much to bare.

The throbbing physical pain doesn't help things along.

I'm not looking for pity or sympathy.

I'm looking for someone to love me and help me.

I'm convinced that people, for the most part,

are morons, selfish, instinct based creatures.

Everyone pretending to be soothing their not.

I don't agree with these social niceties-

fake sermons, fake platitudes

and over all a false sense of respect and safety.

It's pathetic what most people agonise over.

Shallow and vain for the most part.

What o you have to offer?

No one knows that they're doing.

It's all educated guess work and we make things up as we go along.

We live in chaos.

The paint on my nails is chipped.

The dye in my hair is faded.

My eyeliner is smudged and smired under my eyes.

A bruise on my collarbone.

No one seems to notice.

Does anybody care?

They never ask why.

My worlds swirl around me.

I make gestures and comments,

either they don't understand or they don't care.

I don't know how to handle the chaos within;

someone help me manage it, make it go away.

I'm screaming on the inside, while my surface remains calm clean and unblemished.

It's all one giant blur.

True beauty lies in the little mistakes that make us smile.

These thing forever live in our hearts.

I will suffer for these lies.

I long to be delivered from this,

freed from this cage.

It's not that I want to die,

I just want to live without this looming negativity.

Tired of living a fairytale, tired of the lies, the secrets and the inability to fly.

Chained by my own insecurities and denial.

I feel like I'm going to implode. I wish I would already so I could get this over with and stop feeling so shitty. Am I sane or insane? Where to the lines begin? And where do they end? I don't know, so much of the past is muddy within my mind. I remember the first time I cut myself. The year was 2001, that was the year I felt the wave of the bittersweet relief. That's when my innocence ended. At the age of eleven, I left my childhood for something I thought would make me happy. Little did I know it was the first step on the path of addiction, lies, self abuse and chemical romance.

Sometimes even my own thoughts don't make sense.

I mull over them and still I have no answers.

The secrets have clouded my soul.

I can't build myself up any longer.

I've lost my instruction manual.

The blood stains on my clothes remind me of what I am and what I have done.

They can't see through the sarcasm and crude remarks;

They are nothing more than stall tactics.

An existence of never feeling goof enough,

never being able to see the humanity.

When I'm laying in my coffin will I still feel like this?

I couldn't fill in the spaces in this life,

I hope no one expects me to do it in another.

I place my crown of barbed wire on my head and wait for Anubis and Osiris to judge me.

I take my place on the thorn adorned throne.

The void seems to be calling out to me.

I should be scared, but it feels like home.

My fantasies of new life surround me.

They take me to a place where no one can hurt me and time means nothing.

My brian has exploded so I guess that's all good and well. There are times when it feels that there is something other than blood flows through my veins. A seething anger creeps along in my blood stream. What do I need to do to have my requests heard? I'm so young and already I feel so old and faded. I wish I could go back to my childhood; Back to the summer that I spent lying in the tall sun kissed grass, watching the clouds go by. I long to go back to a time when I still believed in magic and I was full of hope. I want to return to the time before I became cynical and jealous. Now I am an adult and I spend every night alone, destroy my body and have no dreams. Sometimes I wish my whole life never happened. It's unrealistic to wish for these things, but I cling to them, they allow me to hold on.


	4. Chapter 4

So many different stories.

So many different lives.

People passing, cars racing by,

no one ever stopping to think what it all means.

I wonder what lies beneath the surface,

what is hidden from view.

So many secrets.

So many lies.

People always hiding their secrets, ashamed to have another find out.

Always undone, never a whole.

Take these hands-the hands of a sinner and wash them clean.

Accept me, change me and allow me to see.

Keep me safe from all the lies and pain.

Take me into your arms and comfort me when I need someone.

Never thought that I would be the one to ask for things such as these.

Selfish, ignorant and unaware.

Afraid, introverted and worried.

Holding my head in my hands, sobbing for no reason at all.

Behaving like such a child.

Wanting the strength, but never willing to work the hardest for it.

Unwilling to change, wanting to hold onto the safety of the past,

even though the safety is only perceived.

Channing oneself due to an imaginary fear.

How is that any way to live?

I don't want to die just to feel relief.

I don't care what it takes to make me feel alive.

Pills, cheep thrills, I'll try anything one.

I'm tired of pretending that everything is fine,

while I'm slowly dying.

This skin is like an encasing bars of a jail cell.

Trapped within flesh, a body that I don't feel is mine.

It's always a disappointment when you find out that the one you love, the one that you want to spend the rest of your life with, has walked away from you. I believe that the emotional abandonment is far worse than the physical. I don't know what I was trying to prove…I was so caught up in the idea that someone may love me, that I was blind to the truth. You were just using me, as all those before you had. You saw me as an accessory, not as someone you cared for. Who was I trying to fool? Maybe I was trying to deny the truth. I've learned the most valuable lesson there is to learn. You can't be blinded over ten minutes of affection. Almost two years into things, when they should have been heating up, you walked away. I'll never understand why, but I know that I'll be missing you,

I need a sign that someone is listening to me.

I want to know that I'm not alone in everything.

I feel like I'm drowning in this sea of decay.

Everything is corrupt-I shake with fear.

I crave some place safe.

How much longer do I need to search?

I just want to lay my head down and sleep,

awake new and in a place where I can flourish.

It feels like no one is listening to me. My family and most of my friends have ignored the most obvious signs that something is wrong. I've voiced concern after concern, nut they all turn away. It was a kick in the ribs the first time they ignored everything and it hurt even more the second time. I don't know why I even bothered trying to go through this whole ordeal a second time around; they aren't listening anyway. I'm not which is worse; holding my silence or having my cries ignored by those who are supposed to love and care for me. It seems like a very lose-lose situation to me. Sometimes I believe that the only one who is truly listening is my journal. He keeps my secrets and tells me that everything will be okay. He holds such wisdom and encouragement not only from deep within myself, but the voices of people who have been where I am now.

Tongue tied and inside out.

Struggling to find meaning in a world of lies.

Fallen leaves create a safe place,

a reminder of innocence of childhood.

The roar of the ocean, both calming and menacing in one,

a reminder of the duel nature of man.

The strong winds that cool your skin and threaten to take everything away,

a reminder that it's hard to hold onto anything and even harder to control destiny.

They bring a reminder of the hope once so deep in your heart.

Sometimes the feeling of wanting you is suffocating.

Wanting to consume you, hold you forever is so overwhelming I don't know how to tell you.

Things aren't always this simple, but I have to have you.

The one thing that's most pure in my life is you.

Even if it's selfish, I don't want to let go.

The fire in your eyes makes me feel alive,

with you by my side, I feel like I can do anything.

I'm independent, but so much of you consumes me;

at times it's hard to separate you from me.

A decade strong and we still have so much to look forward to.

Looking down at the hospital bracelet upon my wrist, I can't help but wish that I was staying there. I don't know if it was the way that I was treated or the fact that I somehow mattered there, but I just want to go back. I hate the name that is inscribed on the bracelet-it reminds me of who I really am. I can't hide from it, no matter how much I may try to escape, I'm always dragged back into it. I've changed myself, but I'm afraid to take the next step forward…I don't want people to see how different I really am. I'm ashamed of myself, my body and this life.

The heavens touch the Earth,

the light shines through the stone faced clouds that kiss the Earth.

The mountains and the sea sing praises to Osiris.

Isis opens her arms, healing me with her embrace.

You claim you don't know me,

but you see me better than anybody else.

I gave you everything you ever wanted for on a silver platter.

I don't know what else you want from me.

The buildings, walls of steal, glass and concrete, surround me.

They reach far into the sky, more than I'll ever be able to.

The clouds hold their silence, yet they always smile.

The mountains, mounds of earth, stone and wood are so beautiful,

but are home to deadly creatures.

The sea, shimmering and calm can turn volatile and swallow you in

an instant.

More days slip by without and indication that this hurt will go away.

It aches and burns;

it's a monster that consumes me.

I don't know what to say.

I live through my own secrets.

I look in the mirror and I don't know what I'm looking at.

I look the same, yet there is something different.

Something about me has been altered.

You're looking at me,

but what you're really seeing is a shell, a phantom of my former self.

They scooped out my soul and filled me up with these pills.

The ink in my skin may fade with time, but the memories never will. I've noticed that the things that hurt the most, the things that cause us so much pain, are the things that we are able to recall at the drop of a hat. It's interesting that the events that cause psychological scarring are the things that guide us through our lives, teach us valuable lessons and helps us to become better people.

The smell of the drive in makes me want to vomit.

My stomach flip flops and bubbles.

It feels as if I've been cut from chest to pubic bone.

and before sewing me up, someone stuck their hands in

my guts and twisted them every which way.

There are times when it feels as if someone has poured boiling gasoline down my throat.

It's like I'm burning and drowning at the same time.

Everything starts to fade away and the blood in my brain bubbles

I hate when people ask me if I'm okay.

What am I supposed to say?

"I'd like to stab nails through my wrists and OD on heroin while I through myself off a bridge?"

Let's get real here.

"Are you okay is a rhetorical question to the the least;

no one really cares what the answer is.

It's nothing more than a way for them to sooth their conscience and walk way guilt free.

More of the false sense of security and caring that people have created in a pathetic attempt to be cultured and civilised.

The worst part of all this?

Most are dumb enough to be fooled by this veil of perpetual bullshit.

I won't be fooled by this half-wit shit.

I'm tired of being pushed to the side. No one takes me seriously, nor do they really seem to care. Everyone always turns away when I ask for any kind of support or help; it really makes me question my existence here. I've defined by who existence by the people around me that I can relate to and those I admire. Then when they change, I'm left with little idea of who I am. I've spent my whole life wishing that I could be them, now I'm unsure of how to be my own person.


	5. Chapter 5

My head begins to pound,

my palms begin to sweat.

It feels as if my throat is closing,

my stomach feels so sick.

I can't explain what does this to me,

be it physical or psychological.

It tortures me every day and I fear

that I am reaching my end.

There are so many things that I haven't accomplished,

so many things I haven't seen,

my life is only beginning, yet I fear its almost done.

I wish someone could explain this to me

and ease my fears.

I pray to the Gods every night to help me to heal.

I don't know if they're listening or if they even care.

I want to believe that they are and that everything

that is happening has meaning, just as the events

before them.

In this modern day and age no one ever accounts for anything.

They brush things off and pass the buck,

no one ever finding the truth.

What are we to tell our children when they have misbehaved.

In today's society punishing a child is seen as somehow illegal

and wrong.

No I don't believe in beating children, starving them or abusing them,

but there are times when lessons of serious caliber need to be learned.

I find it hard to believe all this shit that goes on.

What happened to the values that we used to hold so high?

We can no longer punish those who threaten our families and our

societies-everything these days is about civil rights.

I'm sorry, if you murder and rape a woman or a child, you have no rights.

If you carve their flesh like a piece of wood, you have no rights.

I do believe that we are the ones that are causing the downfall of our

societies.

Trying to modernise everything is not the answer to these social and moral

qualms.

We, as people, need to stand up for what we know is right.

Tell those who have the power over our lives, they do not deserve it-they

betray are trust and threaten our very lives.

There is an anger that has soaked into every fibre of my being.

I long to unleash it,

seek vengence on those who have harmed me.

I know that I must keep it all inside, hide it away from the world.

I know that if I let it out I will never be able to contain it.

It will threaten not only my life, and all those around me.

Some deserve it, some don't,

but the anger doesn't know how to differentiate.

I do wonder when the dam will break and it all will come flooding out.

It all seems so fake, I don't know how I'll be able to work it all out.

The lies, empty smiles and false platitudes.

Beasts pretending to be cultured.

I don't know how to exist in a world that conceals the truth and

buries out values in mud.

I cannot deny this mindless culture is taking it's toll on me.

The yelling and screaming makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

I burry my head in my pillow and try to ride out the storm.

Vibrations echo up through the floor, causing me to shiver.

I'm afraid I'm going to be hit.

I'm afraid that it is going to be my fault.

Their voices cut through the air like razorblades,

my ears threatening to bleed.

It feels as if I've lost my voice, it's caught somewhere in my chest.

I'm unable to speak.

There comes a time when we have to decided what is real, what matters and what should be discarded from our lives. At times it may be hard and painful, other times it may be quick and easy. All that really matters is the outcome of it all. I've also come to realise that it doesn't matter what we are born as or what we are born into; what matters is what we become and what we make of what we have. We need to take in our surroundings and mould them into something beautiful.

Sitting in a room,

choking on apathy.

How are you ever to see?

The days pass before your eyes,

without even a blink.

You never question,

never want to know how or why.

You've lost everything and everyone.

now the only think you have is time,

and you don't what to lose that too.

You hold on tight, all the while, unbeknownst

to you, you're fading away.

I've often wondered why people are drawn to me-why do they want to talk to me so bad or be with me? Maybe they can see something that I can't see. Sometimes I think that this is all going on in my head, there is no way so many people could ever care for me. I feel so alone and so isolated.

The sands of time runs through my fingers.

I want to look back.

Run away from the impending future.

Play dead to hide from the hurt that it will bring me.


End file.
